Autumn 2, 514 AV
As Adair Askara walked to his tattoo parlor that morning, he found the door locked. His key didn't work. There were no slaves and their owners waiting to be branded. There were no crazy young (and not so young) people waiting to get tattoos that they would start hating in a season or two. And worst of all, his Vantha assistant was missing . Had the man forgotten that he was a slave and would get punished if he didn’t show up for work? He couldn’t be sick. He had been completely fine the day before. Had he been abducted? Maybe he was jealous because Adair had spent so much time with a certain member of the Morealis family recently and neglected him. He knew exactly what he would do about that …
… but first he had to get in and find out what was wrong. He tried the door again just to be sure, but it stubbornly stayed locked. So he took his stiletto and inserted it into the lock and started moving it around and turning it carefully. He knew that there were pins in a lock, and that you had to hold them down somehow, but unfortunately he had no idea how exactly to accomplish this feat, and he also found that a stiletto was a rather inadequate lockpick. Still, he decided to give it another try. He knelt down in front of the door and took a closer look at the lock in order to find out what exactly was inside it. Unfortunately it was rather dark in there. He pushed the the tip of his stiletto into the lock one last time and turned it – and pushed some more – but the result stayed the same, so he put the stiletto away again.
He decided to take a look at the windows instead. Maybe one of them was open, and he could enter. Or smash the window, if he could find something to smash it with. As he took a look through one of the windows, he nearly got a heart attack though. The furniture was gone, and his precious drawings were scattered all over the floor. At first he was angry, and then he was confused. Who would rob a tattoo parlour? There were better places to rob! If he were a criminal …
~~~~
A short wile later Adair stormed into his uncle Banjemin’s office. „Uncle!“ he announced, not caring whether anybody was listening or his uncle even had time for him. „I’ve been robbed! Somebody took all my furniture and exchanged my locks so that I couldn’t get back in, and apparently my slave’s run away! I need new furniture. And a guard to prevent future break-ins. But I want my slave back! I’m kind of fond of him, even though he’s a useless, jealous bastard! So please help me find him!“
As Adair Askara walked to his tattoo parlor that morning, he found the door locked. His key didn't work. There were no slaves and their owners waiting to be branded. There were no crazy young (and not so young) people waiting to get tattoos that they would start hating in a season or two. And worst of all, his Vantha assistant was missing . Had the man forgotten that he was a slave and would get punished if he didn’t show up for work? He couldn’t be sick. He had been completely fine the day before. Had he been abducted? Maybe he was jealous because Adair had spent so much time with a certain member of the Morealis family recently and neglected him. He knew exactly what he would do about that …
… but first he had to get in and find out what was wrong. He tried the door again just to be sure, but it stubbornly stayed locked. So he took his stiletto and inserted it into the lock and started moving it around and turning it carefully. He knew that there were pins in a lock, and that you had to hold them down somehow, but unfortunately he had no idea how exactly to accomplish this feat, and he also found that a stiletto was a rather inadequate lockpick. Still, he decided to give it another try. He knelt down in front of the door and took a closer look at the lock in order to find out what exactly was inside it. Unfortunately it was rather dark in there. He pushed the the tip of his stiletto into the lock one last time and turned it – and pushed some more – but the result stayed the same, so he put the stiletto away again.
He decided to take a look at the windows instead. Maybe one of them was open, and he could enter. Or smash the window, if he could find something to smash it with. As he took a look through one of the windows, he nearly got a heart attack though. The furniture was gone, and his precious drawings were scattered all over the floor. At first he was angry, and then he was confused. Who would rob a tattoo parlour? There were better places to rob! If he were a criminal …
~~~~
A short wile later Adair stormed into his uncle Banjemin’s office. „Uncle!“ he announced, not caring whether anybody was listening or his uncle even had time for him. „I’ve been robbed! Somebody took all my furniture and exchanged my locks so that I couldn’t get back in, and apparently my slave’s run away! I need new furniture. And a guard to prevent future break-ins. But I want my slave back! I’m kind of fond of him, even though he’s a useless, jealous bastard! So please help me find him!“
